Barbed Wire Triage

Little men will always invite maelstroms of venom into your life. They pleasure pithing vulnerable beings never caring that a heart needs freedom to beat. At their core, selfishness of the purist form {however} you're not the cure and never will be. There's no balm for this color of rot, never will be. but you're a fiery young, wide-eyed doe. Until living strikes with barbed wire slaps to the soul. I wish you and Mr. Little the very best. Wish I could have steered you far far away. from that reef and those sirens in your head... Sometimes love needs to simply step aside, then offer loving triage till the bleeding finally subsides.